


Through the Lens - Darkly

by Banbury



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-28
Updated: 2008-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-13 03:09:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15354894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banbury/pseuds/Banbury
Summary: Somebody photographs Jim and Blair





	Through the Lens - Darkly

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Elaine, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Artifact Storage Room 3](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Artifact_Storage_Room_3) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Artifact Storage Room 3’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/artifactstorageroom3/profile).
> 
> **Author's notes:**
> 
> Thanks Jane Davitt for beta.
> 
> Written for TS_Secret_Santa, December'07. Prompt: Holly 

He hates when people fuck each other behind the closed curtains. It’s so unfair – how can he fulfill his task if nothing is in sight. But these two… Oh, - how sweet of them to have that big bed in plain view. Nice.

  
He changes to a telephoto lens and begins to fish for new film in the bag pocket.

  
Yes-s-s. Just move your legs farther apart, a bit more… Yes-s-s. What a nice view – that sturdy ass and tender flesh of balls beneath… These new lenses are really something; he can even see the wrinkles on the man’s heels.

  
Oh, that’s wonderful. His cameras click quietly. Entwined legs, parted lips under the curtain of long auburn hair, pierced nipple – long, elegant fingers gently tug at the silvery ring…

  
He unthinkingly strokes the Pentax. It was his first serious camera; it’s like a lucky penny to make sure his job will be fulfilled successfully. Others he owns are digital. He makes enough on these compromising photos to be able to keep up on all the technical novelties.

  
He smirks as he watches the quilt covered entangled limbs. Hey, guys, you’ll have a pretty surprise on your pretty asses tomorrow.

  
He waits for the pictures to appear on the monitor screen so that he can choose the best. He always makes it a condition of his employment that he can use the most picturesque and anonymous shots for his own purposes – in his public life he is quite the well-known erotic photographer.

  
Click… click… click…

  
That’s not bad, that one with a strained cock sticking up through a waterfall of curls. And this one – fingers caressing balls. He marks some more and goes to make coffee. Sometimes – actually most of the time – this work is just boring – cocks, balls, tongues don’t vary that much. He’s ready to call it a night when he finds himself looking into aware eyes.

  
He gets a creepy feeling. These eyes in the picture are too alive and cognizant for him to just brush the feeling aside. Then he finds himself staring into two sets of eyes. He couldn’t even say just that these people suspect something. He knows without doubt that they knew and were even able to see him no matter how strange it may sound.

  
He begins to look through the pictures again. There are some similar shots. He goes through his files and reads the information on the subjects. Cops. Fuck. That sucks. It’s a pity he didn’t pay more attention. “Became careless, my… fuck”.

  
He scans the pictures again. Not that he regrets his agreement, just… it’s a pity to watch their tenderness, their care for each other, even on the photos, and know… Once again he finds himself staring at the picture – entwined fingers, two hands clutching at the railings under the wreath of holly. What the hell; it’s Christmas time…

  
He presses _delete_.  



End file.
